Three Doors Down
by Chanceless
Summary: BB1 granted them powers BB2 took them away. Now, after three generations, the grandchildren of the original characters have a new challenge to face.
1. Introductory Dialogue

"Man...Dakota Union just isn't what it used to be."

"I know what you mean. But then, we haven't exactly proven resilient to the time that's passed either, Virge."

"Yeah...Shenice is the only thing that _hasn't_ changed. Right, Shenice?"

_"Oh, hush. I may be trapped in a sixteen-year-old robot body, but this mind has aged just as much as you in fifty years."_

"**God**, Shenice. Don't _say_ that unless you're _trying_ to give this old guy a heart attack."

_"Why?"_

"Because, unlike you, we do the best we can to ignore the fact that it's been half a _century_ since BB2."

_"You mean today's—"_

"Yeah. The fiftieth anniversary of the day we lost, then gained back, and then lost our powers."

_"...Whoa."_

"Yeah. Whoa. ...Remind me why we're standing here staring at our old high school?"

_"Because, Virgil, we're all enjoying a nice walk in the fresh air, enjoying everything that is good in the world—particularly your grandkids."_

"Oh, _that's_ why...I see."

_"And speaking of grandkids, how are they?"_

"Vero's as charismatic as ever, but she really doesn't realize how lucky she is to live so...effortlessly."

_"What teenager does?"_

"Dave's a straight-A slob. Clean records, messy room."

_"**That** sounds familiar."_

"Har. _Har._"

"Hey, Rich, Shenice...you guys ever wonder what became of Hotstreak's kids?"

_"Yeah. Aquarus took off to Seaworld, and Fiera ran off somewhere out of the country—"_

"Oh, good. No third-generation Hotstreaks."

_"—Leaving her thirteen-year-old son Fin behind."_

"**Oh**..."

_"He's sixteen now."_

"God help us."


	2. Genesis

"Since then, the metahuman gene, as far as we know, is purely dormant in everyone but for the rare exception. The few survivors of such breakouts were immediately committed into rehabilitation. –Yes, Ms. Hawkins?"

The fourteen-year-old African-American lowered her hand and spoke.  
"I read that they were coming out soon with a substance that will cure the metahuman infection for good and prevent it from bleeding through more generations."  
Her tone sliced through the detached mood, phrased as an accusation to cut right to the point. Her dark eyes glittered, demanding honest answer. Just by looking at her, one could tell the gears in her mind were working overtime; so deeply was she engaged in the subject.  
The teacher, a rail-thin male, nodded and grinned.  
"Whoever your sources are, Veronique, they're certainly correct; though we may not know the full extent of when, what, and how, we have been notified that a cure will be administered to prevent the metahuman gene from spreading."

Her elbows on the small round table in front of her; fingers interlaced with her chin resting atop them; long legs bent gracefully under her with her feet propped up by the chair's support structure; Veronique was the perfect picture of active thoughtfulness. She leaned forward slightly, intently processing the teacher's response.  
"What makes them so sure that it won't backfire and birth another epidemic? The meta-gene still hasn't been fully explored, and the few subjects they've been able to test with are the ones with an already active gene. This would mean that if the cure they've been developing is effective with their subjects, they'll have to activate all the dormant meta-genes before administering it, and in order to do that with no risk to the general public, they'd also have to locate all the subjects of dormancy first."  
The painfully intelligent and curious girl may have only been a freshman, but she had enough wit and information to strike up a debate. At the definitive pause which followed her retaliation, she glanced about the room, meeting the stares of her wordless classmates positioned thereabout, fingers poised above mandatory standard black laptop computers perched on the surfaces of sturdy, circular glass tables, each pod-shaped rotating chair stationary.  
With every pair of eyes hers met, Veronique challenged them to voice opinion, give her more to absorb should anyone oppose what she perceived to be fact.  
She was in "Debatable History" class for a reason, and so was supposedly the case with every now silent teenage in the room, also. She tried not to show her scorn; she'd expected more out of high school than this when she had chosen her classes with utmost care. Now it seemed she was the only animate object in a cavity occupied by a handful of statues. The teacher seemed to notice.

"Dictate today's lecture in your Notebooks, and be here Monday with a pro-and-con analysis of the "hasty" decision made in regards to the metahuman gene cure. I want to see exactly thirty five-paragraph essays in my e-mail inbox come the first bell Monday."  
A subtle, dull roar of ominous clacking increased the volume level, but not by much. It ended with the snap of laptops shutting as the "bell" (which was actually a recording of the marching band performing the school's anthem; it would fall silent at the start of the next period) played, signaling their release.

Outside, David was waiting for her out side the sliding door; short, easy-maintenance blond hair cropped close to his scalp; contacts that made his green eyes appear large and watery; one-piece self-regulating clothing (the mainstream fad of the year, like the pre-deca-2000s iPod), today's model with sleeves cuffed at the wrists, a hooded, V-neck top seam and baggy legs for the lower portion of the garment, finished off by rollerblade-equipped Chuck Taylor's (wheeled feature for outdoor use only)—all in various shades of green.  
"Hey, Vero. Vaccination time."  
Veronique shouldered the strap of her laptop case and frowned. "Don't remind me. The last thing I want to do is hyperventilate and pass out _before_ they insert the syringe," she remarked sarcastically, rolling her eyes.  
"Yeah," David considered as they merged with the masses journeying down the hall to the vaccination area. "That would take away their satisfaction of knowing they caused you respiratory complications. Nice outfit—new download?"

The students were in four lines now: one for each class. A booth waited at the end of each line, filled with syringes containing today's injection fluid.  
Veronique looked down as if to remind herself of what she was wearing: an aqua-blue suit-like garment with a studded black belt snug at her waist. The cloth fit snugly, accentuating her curves, stretching from a high collar at her neck to her calves, where they rippled out in a design reminiscent of the 1980s legwarmers that made a comeback in the early 2000s, with long sleeves which followed the same fashion past the elbow. The fabric seemed to have the effect of a fish's scales, shimmering whenever the light caught it a certain way. Her shoes were plain, light blue laceless sneakers.  
"Yeah. iD.E.M.O. just imported loads of new threads downloads from Tokyo. –Hey!" she exclaimed, losing her balance and groping for her laptop case to prevent any damage to its contents as she was roughly jostled by a black-haired sophomore violently shoving his way to the line his class was in.

He looked over his shoulder at her, cocked a skeptical eyebrow, and stopped in his tracks, carefully watching as David steadied her.  
"If you know what's good for you, stay out of my way," the newcomer sneered. "I'd hate to have to hurt you."  
He'd said it so calmly, so condescendingly, that it made Veronique's blood boil. Who was _he_ to talk down at her? A glance at David could have told her he was feeling similarly.

"I'll be right back," he informed her, then shadowed the odd-looking teen's path to the sophomore line.

* * *

"Finny, where ya been?"  
He shrugged off the question. "Around."  
His trench coat-clad acquaintance nodded. "Ah. Got caught again, eh?"  
Fin narrowed his solid pale amber eyes at him. "Does it matter? I'm here, aren't I? Mom says as long as I show up for four periods a day it won't count as an absence." 'Mom' was Fin's parole officer, titled so for how often he was dropping by to check on his charge's well-being and school attendance.

"Mm. Whatever, man. Hey, did you get it?" Judging by the unimpressed once-over the dark male was giving him, he didn't expect whatever 'it' was to be hidden amongst the less than flattering garments Fin had on: baggy denim jeans that were ripped in one knee and secured with an old leather belt; a tight-fitting black and white striped shirt that hung off his shoulders, with sleeves that cut off about an inch past the elbow over a fishnet undershirt; the silver pendant on a crimson leather strap he never took off of his neck; cuffed fingerless "biker" gloves (from back when "biker" was a stereotype; now it was just slang teenagers' grandparents used); and an old pair of sneakers he'd gotten god knows where.

"Yeah, I got it."  
The boy towered above Finny by a good five inches, and now that his eyes were nearly popping out of his head it gave him an absurd appearance. "Give it over, man!"

"Uh-uh. I went through the trouble to get this. _I'm_ gonna call the shots at the gig."  
"_Finny_," he warned, eyes narrowing to slits beneath the hood of his sweater that he wore under the trench coat.  
"Hey!" grumbled a new voice.

Fin turned his head to glance at the guy, arching both his eyebrows, unimpressed. "Who's this fag?"  
"David Foley. Freshman. Not worth the time of day."  
He spat a sound of disgust. "Whatd'ya want?" he demanded of the shorter blonde.  
"Hey man, who the hell do you think you are? You've got no business talking to Veronique the way you did, and if you're gonna threaten anyone you might as well threaten me to make it worth your time."

Laughter exploded around the freshman; apparently the guy he had a bone to pick with had friends. They'd been listening, and were now intently paying attention.  
"Oh, really?" Fin countered, his expression neutral, arms crossed loosely. He spared a glance to a few individuals, who moved and grabbed David's arms, pinning them behind his back to render him without the use of them. In a lightning-fast movement, Fin's arms uncrossed and his hands curled into fists, one of them rushing at his stomach at a blurring speed. "Foley, you're lookin' for trouble. I'm givin' it to ya; take it as a warning this time."

David grimaced in pain and doubled over, but the hits to his gut continued.  
"And here's your parting gift," Fin announced when he noticed they were gathering the attention of the lines on either side. He seemed for a moment like a snake coiling back to strike, then struck at David's eye.  
David stumbled away from the sophomore line as soon as he felt the pressure on his arms release. He hadn't asked anyone to save his spot in line for him, but a sympathetic freshman had witnessed his plight from a distance and graciously granted him his spot back. By this time, Veronique was apparently inside the booth, but she emerged within moments, rubbing her arm and frowning.

"Oh, my god." Her eyes widened when she saw David's bruised condition, but by the time she stepped out of the way of the booth he was whisked into it, eyes cast downward.  
"What happened?" she demanded shrilly once he stepped out as well, joining her at the table she'd claimed in the student lounge area. He shrugged monotonously. "Fin Stone and I were acquainted for the first time."  
Veronique's brow knit together with concern. "_Who_? Is he new here?"

"You could say that." David chuckled, rolled his eyes and tried to swallow the pain from the swelling in his right eye and whatever had most likely been internally ruptured in his stomach. "His parole officer's forcing him to attend; we didn't see him for the majority of this year until now because he hasn't really been around."  
"Charming," she remarked dryly. "Next time, I'll have to be there to beat them up for you, seeing as how you can't manage to take care of yourself."  
She had said it to be a laughing matter, but the way David looked at her then seemed to steal away any humorous thought she'd had.  
"Thanks, but I'd rather see me bruised than you raped, robbed and murdered in some alley. Try and stay away from him."  
Veronique pursed her lips and let the matter rest, not meeting his gaze.  
They sat in silence for a few minutes longer, then the school's anthem began to play over the loudspeakers, signaling their return to class.  
"Chemistry, my good fellow," Veronique murmured, if just to break the silence. David must have forgiven her for her jest at her own safety, for he smiled at her.  
"Yeah. The good doctor awaits. It's the land of the liters and meters for you, young lady."  
"Joy," she muttered without enthusiasm, waving farewell to her friend and heading in the direction of the gym.

* * *

Panting, Shenice burst through the gaping door of the young Foley's home. "I got here as fast as I could; you know how much I hate cars and it was too short-notice to get a bus, so I had to run. What's the matter, Randy?"  
Randall Foley, eyes wide, pointed to a mechanical, almost spider-like device that was scuttling around on the floor, going absolutely berserk, the "eye" on its antennae spinning around and lighting up like a police car. "Dad doesn't know how to work his new phone package, and the only other person I could think to call is you. What's Backpack doing?"

Shenice fell to her knees by the robotic creature, prompted it with a few commands, and skimmed over the data readouts that it screened out for her on a hologram. "It's showing signs of extreme metahuman activity...that's what Gear programmed it to do. I'd say it's malfunctioning, but it doesn't make any sense...it's saying that all the metahuman reactions are occurring at Dakota Union High." Her eyes flitted about the room, settling for a brief moment on Randall. "Keep trying to get in contact with your dad. If you do, tell him to call me and that it's an emergency. I gotta go check out whatever's going on at the school, because I've got a bad feeling about whatever it is."  
She was heading towards the door at "keep trying," was jogging out to the sidewalk at "I gotta go," and by the time she'd gotten to "whatever it is," she was yelling to make sure her words were heard as she sprinted off in the direction of the high school.

* * *

"The land of the liters and meters," as David had jokingly referred to, was the Algebra classroom. On her way in, Veronique thought she'd caught a glance of the charming Fin Stone she'd been notified of. However, she refused to pay any attention to him; what mischief could he possibly do while class was in session?  
She removed her laptop from its case and thumbed the Power button while setting it up on her desk. There was nothing on the projector for them to do, and the teacher was speaking in hushed tones on a cell phone.

Had the walls and door not been soundproof, she would have heard screams rising in the hallway outside. However, a few seconds later, there was no need: a girl a few seats away from her glanced down at her hands and shrieked in panic, eyes wide.  
"What's happening to me?" Feathers had sprouted along her upper arms and were now growing at an alarming rate as her fingers and feet morphed into talons. The girl screamed again, and this time jagged purple rings shot from her mouth, mutilating her desk and laptop into a pile of hopeless rubble. She leaped to her feet and stared at her hands, her breath coming out in short, panicked gasps.

"Remain in your seats, please," commanded the instructor, then barked a few commands into the cell phone before hanging up and calmly seating himself at his desk.  
Veronique's eyes widened and she slapped the laptop closed, quickly placing it back in her bag before getting up from her desk and rushing over to the girl's side, placing an arm around her shoulders.  
"Whatever's going on, we'll get it taken care of," she assured the girl, hiding her disgust at the teacher and her classmates that they hadn't done anything.

"Step _away_ from the infected student, Ms. Hawkins, and _take your seat._"  
Two coffee-brown eyes narrowed hatefully in the teacher's direction. "No. Not until we know what's going on."

On the other side of the room, Fin craned his neck toward the two to see what was going on. Oh, he'd heard of the "occasional mutant breakouts," but had never actually _witnessed_ one up close until today. He wondered if physical contact with the mutating girl would spread the virus to the black chick touching her, but judging from what he could see there wasn't anything happening yet; no secondhand mutation.  
Jumping at the opportunity to insert himself into the scene, he sped over to the two girls and wrenched Veronique off of the other one, dragging her toward the wall, pinning her arms to her sides. "Gettin' yourself in trouble, mm? If you wanted to do that, you could'a just come see me," he hissed in Veronique's ear, but to the teacher he called, "Get her taken care of before someone else does anythin' _stupid_."  
Veronique struggled in Fin's grasp (for someone with such a slight build and hardly three inches taller than she, he was stronger than she'd expected), her eyes glued on the female, whose body was now writhing with violent spasms, more of the odd sonic waves ripping from her lips with every cry she made. "Somebody, _do_ something!" she demanded when no response was made either to her earlier statement or Fin's casual muse a few seconds before. The response she got now was Fin's grasp around her arms tightening to where it was almost painful.  
And then, on cue, the door opened and the screams from several other students outside met their ears, but that wasn't what held their attention; it was the small group of uniformed men wearing radiation protection and oxygen masks.  
The teacher, trembling now, pointed to the winged female. "That's the only one we have here so far," he said, as though it wasn't obvious that the only one going through strange genetic enhancements was the now-feathered girl.

"_Ow!_" Veronique hissed, attempting again to jerk away from Fin's grasp, but to no avail. "You're **hot**!"  
Fin chuckled sadistically. "Well thanks, but you're just not my type. It would never work out between us."  
Though both of their gazes were still permanently glued on the girl and what the masked men were doing to sedate her and get her out of the room, Veronique still struggled. "You self-absorbed swine, that's _not_ what I meant!" She yelped suddenly in pain as she felt his hands get hotter still, the heat burning through her sleeves.  
"Chill out, Chocolate."

"Veronique!" Shenice exclaimed, skidding to a halt as she nearly passed the classroom altogether. She raced inside, flashed some card of Superiority at the teacher, and hustled over to Veronique and Fin. "You two. Come with me. **Now.**"  
Veronique hardly knew the superhuman friend of her grandfather's, but knew better to argue when it came to her authority. She finally broke free of Fin's hold with a steely glare in his direction, then realized that Shenice had instructed for them _both_ to follow her.  
"See ya, Teach," Fin excused, striding to the door with a finger-gesture at the teacher. "Give that to Mom when you see 'im."

Ignoring the commotion going on in the hallway, Shenice marched them both briskly to the back door, refusing to answer any of Veronique's questions until she'd hailed a hovercab. "In," she spoke tersely as the door slid open. Veronique immediately complied, but the spiky-haired male seemed in no hurry to obey.  
"Thanks for springin' me outta there, but I got somewhere to be," he said dismissively with a flick of his wrist.

Shenice didn't seem phased by his attitude, but she didn't seem ready to leave yet, either. She leaned against the cab, glancing down at her wristwatch as if counting the seconds.  
Sure enough, it wasn't long at all before Fin's features darkened and then went completely blank. With a low moan, he swayed and crumpled onto the artificial lawn grass. With a grunt, Shenice lifted him into her arms and deposited him in the seat beside Veronique, who stared at the unconscious boy in wide-eyed wonder.  
"What was _that_?" she asked, trying not to show her panic.

"I'll tell you when you come to," Shenice answered, though Veronique had absolutely no clue what she'd meant until a sickening wave of pain and exhaustion swept through her and her mind blacked out.  
"Arkham Metahuman containment center, Gotham City," Shenice notified the cab driver, sliding into the remaining space of the backseat, flashing her "superiority card" again to prompt him to immediate compliance.


	3. Third Time's a Charm

An hour later found Special Officer of Metahuman Affairs Shenice Vale sitting in front of a containment cell, one leg crossed gracefully over the other. Her dark hair was swept back in its traditional neat ponytail, and she wore a purple shirt with red sleeves and lounge jeans with black ballet flats. On occasion she would glance down at her digital watch, sigh, and then return her attention to the two unconscious teenagers, one on either side of the cell.  
She couldn't help noticing that they both bore specific traits to their predecessors; she supposed some things were handed down that just went untouched by time, like the hair styles of both teenagers, the contrasting style preferences in regard to the fads of the era, and some of the obvious emotions which raged inside their minds.

Hotstreak's legacy—Fin Stone, that was his name, she reminded herself—stirred slightly with a heavy groan, subconsciously running the fingers of one hand through his gelled and spiked black—now with streaks of red and yellow—hair. Apparently the chill of the dank cement floor reached his mind, and he jerked awake, springing to his feet on instinct and wildly glancing around in alarm. His gaze finally settled on the still-unconscious Veronique, and then averted to Shenice when the older female cleared her throat to get his attention.  
"What the **hell** is going on?" he demanded, taking a few lengthy strides to the edge of his cell and leaning against the side wall so he could look at Shenice out of the corner of his eye. He was struggling with much difficulty and not much chance of success to contain his anger and irritation at being shanghaied to wherever in God's name he was.

"Fin, did your mom ever tell you about your grandfather?"  
His gaze snapped back directly now, his head turning the slightest degree so he could stare intently at her. "...What?"  
"Answer the question, Fin."  
"Uh-uh. She never met 'im. Said Maria told her he died before she was born."  
Shenice nodded. "He did. Do you know how he died?"  
"No."  
"Would you like to?"  
He snorted. "Like I give a shit about my slut of a mom's old man?"  
Shenice lifted an eyebrow. "Well, what I'm about to tell you would make a lot more sense if you knew first what happened before you or your mom were born."

He narrowed his eyes and cocked an eyebrow also, folding his arms under his chest. "Whatever. Hit me."  
"Your grandfather was a metahuman—the result of the very first Big Bang, which occurred fifty-two years ago. He died two years later in the second Big Bang at eighteen."  
Fin was unimpressed. "So?"  
"He was _Hotstreak_. You're his _grandson_." Shenice's eyes bore through his, mentally begging him to get the picture. Her pleas went unheard.  
"What's the fucking **point**?"

Shenice stood and walked over to the transparent cell wall, staring coldly at the boy. "The metahuman gene doesn't disappear over time, Fin. It stays with whoever bears the blood of whoever was originally infected, but most people never get the chance to have it activated. What happened today was an intentional repeat of the past two Big Bangs, and instead of infecting everyone, it only activates the dormant gene in those who already have it."  
_That_ seemed to get through to him. Though his eyes were still turned to Shenice, he was no longer seeing her. His mind buzzed with several questions erupting in them at her statement of finality. "Why would they do that?" he finally asked. With this he regained his untouchable façade, standing tall again and hardening his resolve.  
"To exterminate the meta-gene." Veronique shakily stood and made her way to the end of the cell also, keeping a safe distance between Fin and herself. "In order to administer the so-called cure, they need to activate it with a serum—I'm guessing that's what we were vaccinated with today instead of the usual prevention stuff we usually get."  
She turned her full, serious attention to Shenice. "The cure is supposed to be harmless to the general public, but what I've researched hasn't said anything about how it could affect those with the gene. Judging from how far you went to get me—us—out of the area earlier, I guess it's safe to say that what they had in mind wasn't exactly humanitarian."

Fin was staring at her as though she was some weird, freaky genius alien with three heads, but Shenice nodded. "It's nice to know you don't take after your grandpa as far as resourcefulness goes," the older woman said with a grim smile, then bent down to retrieve Veronique's open laptop at her feet, turning the screen so the other two could see.  
"Not only were they planning on exterminating the meta-gene, but also the bearers. Anyone who showed any sign of reaction to the activation serum today was injected with another serum, this one to terminate immediately. If I hadn't come to get you, you'd both be dead."  
Fin said nothing. Veronique was deep in thought for a moment before she spoke again. "I get why he's here, but what about me? What makes me so special to have the gene; Dad didn't tell me about anything, and neither did Mom."  
Shenice sighed. "Vero, you know about Static, I assume, since you've done your research."  
She received a nod.  
"Static is Virgil Hawkins. _Your_ grandfather."  
"Oh, my god," Veronique moaned, placing a hand to her forehead and gnawing her lower lip as she contemplated this startling piece of information.  
"So I can light shit on fire, and that's Sparky's grandkid. How come I don't feel any different now?"  
"Because you're in a containment cell. It was built shortly after the first Big Bang, with technology enough to restrain any metahuman activity. If I flip the switch on the wall, the barrier goes away and you both are capable of everything Static and Hotstreak were."  
Veronique returned to her senses. "So you saved our lives; what now? I've still got powers, and Hothead over there will probably get himself killed anyway the moment he's set loose. What happens now?"  
Shenice shrugged. "I haven't gotten to that part yet. You'll both just have to stay in there until further notice."  
"_Together_?" Veronique whined.  
"Yes. Together."

"Do I get my one phone call, Officer?"  
Veronique glanced at Fin with mild surprise. "Don't you _have_ a cell phone?"  
He glared harshly at her. "If I _had_ one, I wouldn't be _askin'_ for one, smartass."  
"But they're so cheap now, if you get the ones that—"  
"When I _want_ advice on shopping, I'll come see you. I want my phone call."

Veronique looked at Shenice, who nodded. "Then call, and behave. I'll be back in a little while to let you two know what's going on."  
The two watched her leave, then Veronique pulled out a tiny device and tossed it to Fin, who caught it and muttered a series of digits into the ear-mic dualpiece.  
"Benj. It's me, man. ...Yeah. Look, can you trace this? Good. I got a gig I'm gonna be late for. Yeah. ...Yeah. _That_ gig. Look, just get me outta here, man. ...Fuck you, too."

Veronique hadn't been paying attention to his conversation, and she was too lost in thought to notice when he pocketed her phone instead of returning it. She sat with her legs folded under her, arms crossed, leaning forward slightly as though preparing to sink into herself. "The vaccinations," she murmured, thinking out loud. "They're _supposed_ to help us. Ever since they invented the vaccine to be distributed at schools worldwide, they've been known to prevent kids from getting sick. Flu, cold, chicken pox, cancer...ever since thirty years ago, nobody's had it. It makes perfect sense to sneak the serum into such an innocent—"  
"Will you _shut up_ already?"  
Her head snapped up, her gaze meeting his across the room. "'s the matter, flame-for-brains?" she quipped with a smirk. "We're both stuck here, and there's nothing either of us can do about it."  
"Ah," he corrected her. "But that's where you're wrong." He paced to the transparent wall (where a door would be if anyone had the key) and glanced down at her. "I'm gonna be outta here before that freaky teenage officer gets back. –Don't you think there's something' off about a chick who's got that much power that young?"

Veronique shrugged. "What's it matter? She never causes any trouble, so why shouldn't she be trusted?"  
Fin scoffed and shook his head in disgust. "Rich kids. They'll trust anyone," he muttered to himself.  
"So, where ya gonna be going?"  
He assumed she was only speaking to him because she was bored. "Somewhere."  
"You don't trust anyone, do you?"  
He didn't reply; if she couldn't guess _that_ just from looking at him, then she was a lost cause.

* * *

"You did _what_!?" Virgil rasped, his face a portrait of shock on the holograph projected of it from Shenice's wristwatch.  
"You heard me, Virge. I took them to the Arkham containment center and put them in a cell. I'm gonna check in on David to make sure he hasn't Gear-ified on us, and then I'll head back."  
The ten-inch-tall Virgil hologram buried his face in his hands. "Shenice, you idiot! Do you have _any_ idea of what could happen to Veronique in there? Hotstreak was a manic rapist-drug-dealer-alcoholic-abusive-drunk-thief, what makes you think his grandkid'll be any different?"  
"Just a hunch. Besides, Virgil, _you_ were able to handle Hotstreak; why shouldn't Vero be able to handle Fin?"  
"Because she's a _girl_!" he exclaimed, glaring at her. "If **anything** happens to her while inside there, I get to blame you."

"Fair enough," she replied. "So what do you want me to do when I get back?"  
"Let Hothead go loose. Sooner or later, somebody'll show up and he'll end up dead, with any luck."  
Shenice shook her head, smiling slightly. "You still haven't changed."  
"Neither have you!" he exploded, waving his arms about. "You're still as reckless and precarious as ever!"  
"Better reckless than repressed, Virgil."  
"...Oh, I _know_ that you did _not_ just call me repressed."  
"Bye now!"  
"Hey, wait! I am _not_ finished wi—" The hologram vanished at the touch of a button. "Men," she muttered, then hailed another cab to Dakota Union High.

* * *

"Hey man, are you sure it was a good idea to _hit_ the girl?—You know, knock her out?" Benji asked, glancing apprehensively at the unconscious Veronique. Fin flexed his hand, biting back the stinging pain in his knuckles from their impact to the side of Veronique's skull.  
"Doesn't matter. World'll be a better place if she doesn't wake up," he muttered dryly. "Let's just go."  
Benji assisted Fin in hopping up to the window ledge, slipping out the same way he had come in (which he had done after managing to shatter the so-called "shatterproof" glass).  
"Where to, F-Stop?" he asked, after grunting to fit himself through and following Fin to the hovercar he'd parked at the side of the building.  
"Gangbang rendezvous by the airport. Does anyone else know you're here?"  
He carried himself with such calm authority, but the older boy could have sworn he'd caught a glimpse of something faltering in his eyes.

"Nu-uh. Nice hair. You chill?"  
Fin didn't answer. "Let's just get there. I got somethin' to show you and everyone else."  
"'s gotta be one hell of a surprise, huh?"  
He snorted, leaning back into the seat. "You have _no_ idea. After what's about to go down, Dakota's gonna be begging for mercy." He chuckled darkly.

* * *

"**Fuck**," the trenchcoat guy from earlier spat on the pavement and extracted a cigarette from his pocket, lighting up and sharply inhaling a drag of nicotine.  
A handful of other rugged individuals were scattered about the deserted garage level, all of them more than mildly irritated at the same thing that prompted Fin's dark acquaintance from the school to the beginnings of rage.

"Anybody got _anything_? I need some smack to calm me down before I strangle **Collins** for trusting some egotistic brat with what_ever_ it is we're here for that we _still_ don't even know what it _is_." A twenty-something-year-old female with a shaved head snarled and wrung her hands, decked with several rings on each finger. "Collins," she snarled, glaring at the trenchcoat kid. "I swear, I'm gonna kill you if we get busted waiting for some shit-for-brains kid to show up."  
A shadowy male, features hidden beneath the bulk of a hood, handed her a small packet. "Cool it, Euphoria," he purred silkily.

"Yeah, cool it. I got what I said I would, and I always keep my word," Fin announced as he entered the building, holding something up for display between his index and middle finger.  
"Ah. F-Stop," Collins greeted dryly. "Nice to see that you're dependable."

A devilish smirk crossed Fin's features, and the packet of crystal particles suddenly lit aflame between his fingers. Once he was sure he'd grabbed the attention of each one of them, he allowed the flame to engulf his entire body. "See this?" he asked over the roar and crackle of the flames. "_This_ I inherited." He forced the fire to subside, leaving him in an unchanged state. In his other hand he held up a small metal case. "But I can give all of _you_ the exact same power."  
"What's in it for you?" Euphoria shouted, now quite sedated by the sickly sweet smoke hovering around her from the concoction she was inhaling.  
"Power," Fin replied. "You be my army, and we could start by taking over the city."

Another stranger, this one a punk with green hair and so much metal on him he could have passed as a human magnet, announced himself. "Prove that we should go with this. You just blew up our Jam, that's pretty serious stuff."  
"Proof?" Fin asked calmly, his eyes glinting dangerous steel. "How's this for proof?"

He tossed the case into the air and extended a fist toward it. Fire shot from his fist, and the metal case seemed to glow a moment from the heat before melting, its contents now being ravaged by the intense flames. The hundreds of canisters contained within the case shattered and exploded. Fin and everyone else were blown off their feet by the wave, and the blast destroyed the building altogether. The purple gas that had formed on contact when the canisters had exploded spread faster now that it was out in the open, where the wind could buffet it along. Within seconds, the entire sect of the city was engulfed in purple fog.

The hovercar groaned as it braked suddenly beside the collapsing building. Someone stepped out, with a badge title reading "Special Officer of Metahuman Affairs," and strode over to one of the fallen bodies.  
"**_Idiot_**!" hissed Shenice, dragging the hardly-conscious Fin away from the rubble of the parking annex. She grumbled inaudible phrases the entire time she was toting him back to the containment center.

* * *

"You okay?" David asked gently, his hand on Veronique's shoulder as she came to. She was immediately conscious of the bump on the side of her head, which was no doubt responsible for the headache currently hammering itself into a migraine.  
"Fantastic," she groaned. "You?"  
"I'm chill," he replied. "Interesting news to hear, hm?"  
She gave him a startled look. "You too?"  
He nodded. "Yeah. I got super-smart. Apparently, since there're no physical side-effects, I wasn't noticed by the weirdos carting out the rest of us."  
"_Fun_," Veronique breathed. "So that's it, huh? You, me, and your new friend are the only surviving metahumans. Shenice'll probably show up any second now to take us to an uncharted island where we'll be safe from the authorities of the city—but not the ravaging components of nature."  
David tilted his head to the side, curious. "What 'new friend'?"

"Fin Stone."  
He swore and stood, staring at Veronique in utter disbelief. "You're kidding me."  
"Nope. For some reason, he's in this too." Her eyes followed David as he paced the floor of the somewhat claustrophobic space, helpless for words.  
"So _he's_ the one that hit you?" he asked, his pace accelerating. "I swear, I'm gonna kill him."

Veronique snorted. "Kill him? Dave, you still haven't recovered from the last time you tried to face up to the guy. And at least now he's somewhere else, so he's not _my_ problem, or yours. With any luck, he's already been spotted, sedated and euthanized by now."  
He stopped pacing and knelt in front of her, his eyes dark and serious. "Vero. I'm not concerned about _me._ He could have seriously hurt you . . . you understand?"  
Her annoyance was slowly beginning to bubble over.

"**David**. Let me worry about _me_, okay? And if you don't start worrying about your own damn self, _you're_ going to be the one getting 'seriously hurt,' or killed."  
David turned away and said nothing, his gaze eventually finding the broken window that Fin had used as his escape. "What was so important that he _had_ to have gotten out so fast?" he wondered in a low murmur to himself, frowning.  
Now it was Veronique's turn to start pacing, as she was wondering what was going to happen to her now that this new trait had been inserted so rapidly into her life.  
Then it occurred to her that she didn't even know for sure if what Shenice had told her she was capable of was accurate; for all she knew, she could still be perfectly normal, without any odd abilities or DNA enhancements whatsoever. She scoffed quietly and shook her head; she wasn't answering any of her questions as it were. If anything, she was just creating more for herself. She made a mental note to confront Shenice the moment the older female returned from...wherever she was.

"Where'd Shenice go?" she asked suddenly. "I assume she brought you here."  
"Yeah, she brought me here. No, I don't know where she went." He took a few steps until he and Veronique were only a small distance apart. "Hey, are we chill?"  
She offered him a small smile. "Ice cool."

Their touching moment was shattered by the door bursting open and Shenice storming through, dragging a cataleptic Fin by the wrist. A single look at her told them all that needed to be said: _Fin screwed up **big time**_.

"Uh-oh," Veronique singsonged. "Hothead's in trouble. What, did he burn down the school?"  
"Worse," Shenice snapped, carelessly dropping Fin's currently lifeless body at her feet. She fished through the pockets of her vest before extracting a card key, which she inserted into the narrow slot by the transparent wall of the cell, which dissolved, providing an opportune door for the two. "Out," she ordered, shoving Fin inside the cell with her foot once Veronique and David had exited, and pulling out the key.

"What about the—" David began, but Shenice cut him off.  
"Window? Look closely—the glass is repairing itself, and with twice the strength it had before shattering."  
Both teens gave her a confused look, and she rolled her eyes. "Technology in the pre-deca era, believe it or not, _was_ sufficiently advanced for it's time. We'd just discovered nanite technology, and the guys who built this place did a good job of making sure mistakes and breakouts couldn't happen more than once—and anyone in here never _did_ get out."

"...Ah. I see." Veronique gestured to Fin. "What'd he do?"  
Shenice huffed angrily. "**He** just made _my_ job a whole lot harder. Remember the two 'Big Bang' incidents that happened when your grandparents were your age?"  
The two nodded, both of them dreading what Shenice was no doubt going to say next.  
"Yeah. He probably had no idea what he was doing when he blew something up and caused _another_ metahuman breakout. There's been at least a quarter of Dakota's population infected by the gas."

"Brilliant," Veronique sighed, burying her face in her hands. "Just what we need: _more_ of us freaks running around Dakota."  
"You're not telling us the rest of what you had in mind," David accused, eyes narrowed. "What you haven't mentioned yet is there is no way the police are going to be able to handle a breakout this big, with this many people. If we can suit up and get the commotion under control, then we'll gain respect from the public—meaning we won't be antagonized and hunted down by the powers that be trying to put us out of business. So what you're _trying_ to ask us is if we'll cooperate, for the good of Dakota City." He finished his declaration with a triumphant smile, arms folded across his chest.

Veronique's jaw dropped, and she was staring at him as though he was (even though he _was_) a freaky mutant super-genius.  
"Remote telepathy," he explained for the female's benefit.

"Ah."

Both pairs of eyes turned back onto Shenice, who shrugged helplessly. "You got me. The tricky part is getting you—" she pointed at David—"to gear up. If we can't get you some invention material soon, either your brain's going to explode, or you'll just be of no use whatsoever. Hate to have to put it that bluntly, but it's true."  
David shrugged. "All I need are spare parts and a working CPU."  
"Great."  
"Excuse me," Veronique interjected, annoyed again. "But how can you be so sure that we're **flawless** duplicates of the superheroes passed? For all we know, we could be heading out into the big unknown with powers that don't even exist."

Shenice stared evenly back. "Well, it's easy to tell that David's got something going on other than clockwork in that mind of his, and you're not in containment anymore, so try it out." She dug around in her pockets again, withdrawing from a different one this time a 3Musketeers candy bar wrapper. "Magnetize this."  
Veronique simply stared, dumbfounded, at the metallic wrapper, then glanced back up at Shenice. "You're totally kidding me. You're trying to trick me into believing this so that I'll look like an idiot on some camera that you've rigged up somewhere in here...right?"

"Wrong," David informed her, and she mentally cursed his smarter-than-thou 'remote telepathy.'  
"—I heard that."

She deathglared him. "I don't want to have to hurt you, David, but if you don't stay out of my head I may be forced to take drastic measures." Jeeze. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since she'd had the news broken to her, and already she was hostile toward the boy she'd been friends with for as long as she could remember.  
"Magnetize this," Shenice repeated, thrusting the wrapper forward. When Veronique merely stared dumbly at it again instead of making any attempt to manipulate it with powers she doubted existed, Shenice released it from her grasp and let it float to the floor.  
Her expression remained unchanged, and the wrapper didn't move. Shenice sighed and shrugged.

"Vero," David murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder and immediately withdrawing it with a hiss of pain. "Hey! Nobody told me you were charged with static electricity!"

Veronique grinned smugly, jutting out her chin. "That's what you **get** for touching me without my permission when I'm trying to focus on something."  
Instead of remaining neutral as he would have otherwise, David's face lit up, his eyes shifting immediately to the candy bar wrapper. "Vero, I have no idea what you're doing...but whatever it is, don't stop. The safety of Dakota City may depend on it."

She averted her attention back to the wrapper and her grin widened. She extended a hand (not without realizing that both her hand and the wrapper were faintly glowing purple) and clenched it into a fist, the wrapper crumpling as if it were enclosed within it.  
"There. I moved your _stupid_ wrapper," she quipped to Shenice, her eyes dancing. "That leaves everything checked off except for letting darling Finny know of your intentions."

"Be my guest," Shenice countered. "You're the one so interested in him."  
"If, by 'interested,' you mean disgusted and unimpressed to the point of pushing him off a cliff, then yeah. I'm interested. But I'd rather _not_ be the one to let him know we're about to become business partners. Why not have Brainiac tell him?"  
"I resent that derogatory reference to my intelligence," David announced, and Veronique had to resist the urge to slap him.  
"Whatever." She jabbed a finger at Shenice. "It was your bright idea. _You_ tell him."

"Tell me what?"  
"Good morning, Sunshine," Veronique spat. "We were just _talking_ about you."  
Fin returned her vehement glare. "I **know** that, Sparkles. What about me?"

David twitched; nobody noticed.  
Shenice examined her fingernails. "Congratulations, Stone. You're a superhero."

"...The **fuck**?"  
"That stunt you pulled back at the airport? I'm sure you have _no_ idea what you were doing, but it created an explosion that's caused quite a few innocent people to mutate."  
"So **that's** what it was for," he mused under his breath.

"Earth to Fin!" Shenice snapped her fingers to get his attention again. "And you know what, 'F-Stop?' You get to clean up the mess you made."  
He snorted. "I 'get to'? What if I don't **want** to? You can't make me do anything."

"True," Shenice admitted, tapping her finger to her chin. "But I could always call metahuman control and have them have you taken care of.—and it wouldn't be death for you, Fin, it'd be the life under a microscope. Humans have been fascinated by fire since we discovered it; they'll keep you alive at any costs once I hand you over to them, and they'll monitor you in a big white room with a white mattress and white clothes and white masks hiding the guilt in the eyes of the ones tormenting you, trying to figure out what makes you the link between human evolution and the flame."  
Fin shrugged from his 'spot' leaning against the wall, head angled to one side to incredulously glance at the speaker. "Doesn't bother me," he stated nonchalantly. "But what it looks like is _you_ need **me** in order to get this under control."  
Veronique kept her lips pursed and glanced at David, who watched the scene between Shenice and Fin without movement or sound.

"You're smart, Fin," Shenice was saying.  
"I know."  
"So I'll get right down to it. _What do you want_?"  
"I want...a cigarette."

"Oh, my **God**," David muttered, clapping a hand to his forehead. "We're mad, all mad. The whole world has gone **mad**."  
"Shut up, Bruises," Fin shot back, much to his satisfaction when David's jaw snapped shut, his eyes smoldering hatred.  
"Now, _Officer_. I want a cigarette. I'll be good, I promise." He merely sneered when Shenice wordlessly pointed to the grimy cigarette butts littering the floor by the bunk. "I still have _some_ dignity left, you know."  
"Coming from a kid who learned all about life on the streets of Dakota when he was ten because his mom got them evicted from their flat. Coming from the one kid who can manage to avoid being caught by Dakota's police in any situation."

"Touche." Veronique cocked an eyebrow.  
"Someone's had a lot of time on her hands to do research," David observed.  
"Oh, so you read about me in _Dakota's Troubled Teen_!" Fin exclaimed, bubbling over with sarcastic enthusiasm. "I'm touched by your concern, _really_, but if you could let me out so I can have a smoke, that'd be great."  
"Take a flying leap, too, while you're at it." Veronique smirked.

Shenice said nothing more. She inserted the card key into the slot, and the transparent wall dissolved.  
"**_Thank_** you," Fin snapped with such malevolence that the gratitude the words implied never hit their mark. He pulled a Marlboro from his Jeans pocket and stepped out of the cell's confines. All but Shenice took an apprehensive step back.

At the snap of his fingers, a tiny flame ignited. Fin raised the cigarette to his lips, secured it between his teeth, and lit it with the miniature lighter flame on his fingertip. He took a long, slow drag, taking his time in exhaling. Then, reflex-quick, his entire body engulfed and he made a break for the door.  
Suddenly he wasn't moving of his own accord, and he was heading for the door's metal surface faster than planned. He slammed against it, groaning in pain.  
"**That** was for hitting me and lying," Veronique announced triumphantly, quite enjoying the sight of Fin extinguished and magnetized to the door.  
"Now, let's try this again: you gonna help, or not?"

"**Yes**!" Fin grunted. "Jeezus!—You're such a pain—I'll help, just get me down!"  
"Good." There was a pause, and then Veronique spoke again. "Um...I don't know how to reverse it."

"_WHAT?_"

"Kidding."

He fell back from the door, landing with a 'thump' on the cement. After a few seconds, the paralyzing magnetism in his system wore off, and he jumped to his feet again.  
"Ladies first," Veronique offered, gesturing to the open door.

Fin forced a humorless laugh, the air around him shimmering with angry heat as he led the way out.

"Follow the screams!" Shenice called after them with no intent of leaving. "You can't miss it."  
She looked at David, who was shaking his head and staring at her in awe.

"What?"  
"You were planning that the whole time, weren't you?"  
"Mm-hmm," she replied with a nod.  
"It wasn't about you making a petty deal with Fin and trusting him to keep his word—"  
"It was about him and Veronique creating a circuit. Mostly to let me know she can handle him out there. Well, she can." She gave David a once-over, changing the subject. "Uh-_huh_...yeah, we're gonna have to do something about _you_. After all, you've got a long ways ahead of you in preparing for your days in the cape and cowl."  
David shrugged. "Whatever. To the recycle yard?"  
She nodded.

"Onward!"


	4. Syntax Error

Here ya go: Chapter 3. It's a little shorter than the other two (by, like, 2,000 odd words . . . ), simply because I didn't want to add more crap to the end scene. Chapter 4 will be longer, though, I promise! I've got a few fun tricks up my sleeve.

Thanks again to Hack.Drawer and ElFangor87 for the awesome and consistant reviews; because of you two, I'm kept on my toes as a writer. Hugs Much love.  
Hm . . . not really much more to say, except that I'm in LOVE with the greatest guy on the freaking PLANET. Gah! He's so fabulous! He opens doors for women, he's courteous and gentlemanly, he's got the right amount of personality with the right amount of respect and is ADORABLE to boot. Mahaha. I must be the luckiest girl in the world. (End sickening rant)

On with the chapter!

* * *

"Follow the screams, hm?" Veronique mused. "'s morbid enough."

Fin tensed and relaxed his muscles, as if contemplating their capacity. He smirked coyly at Veronique. "Catch me if you can."  
Just as Francis had for the first time fifty-two years before, Fin flared up and kicked off the ground, jetting away to the part of the city somewhat masked by purple haze.

Veronique groaned; he was challenging her, and she _should_ have been smart enough to be able to ignore it, but she refused to give Fin the satisfaction of beating her to the scene. She glanced around quickly for anything metal that could support her weight without collapsing and last long enough to get her there.  
"Aha!" she cried upon sighting the pole to a street sign hovering above the durable, glass like road (the likes of which had become the norm to be more compatible to the invented hovercrafts). She reached a hand toward the pole, and it wobbled for a moment before levitating to her with alacrity. She grasped it firmly in both hands, held it above her head and sent a burst of power into the metal. It responded promptly by lifting her into the air and shuttling her off in the same direction Fin had gone.  
In a short matter of minutes she had nearly caught up to him and was quickly closing the space between them.  
"Hey Slowpoke, what's the matter? You had the head start!" she crowed, accelerating ahead.  
"At least I've still got both hands free," he retaliated, adding onto the power he was channeling into his flight to catch up to her.

The two landed a short distance away from the bulk of the chaos, Fin diminishing the flames which had made him into an airborne inferno, and Veronique de-magnetizing the pole, though still holding it loosely at her side as a potential weapon (she doubted she'd need it, and even then she'd be hesitant to use it, but she figured it was better to be safe than sorry).

"Wow," she breathed, then looked to Fin. "We've got a lot of work to do."  
"We?" He sounded amused. "Sparkles, you're on your own. I don't need some cunt drooling at my heel to slow me down."

Veronique tensed; did he _have_ to express everything so poorly? "All right, then. Let me know your plan so I can be sure to stay out of your way."  
Of all the things Fin had been expecting, compliance wasn't one of them. He swallowed his unnerved astonishment and hooked his thumbs in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels to stall for time. "Just that: to stay out of my way. And don't get killed, 'cause I'll be blamed for your dead ass."  
"Let's go."  
He ignored the second attempted gesture of teamwork and dived off the roof they were perched onto the chaos below. She observed for a moment longer, analyzed the scene:

The purple fog cast a nebulous veil over the city sect, hiding distant rooftops and trouble occurring anywhere beyond a few buildings away. Fin was blazing already, shooting streams of flame at anything that came near. She snorted and shook her head.  
_That idiot_. Even if he stopped any of the metahuman activity raging in the area, he'd more than likely end up killing one or more innocent mutants, and that would only worsen his condition (she doubted murder would serve as a gold star on his record).

**_Boom_**. Someone's solid quartz fist came into contact with Fin's solar plexus and sent him flying back into the side of the building, which trembled on its foundations from the impact.  
"He couldn't even last _five minutes_ out there without my help? I thought he was so **proud** of being independent," she grumbled, creating an electromagnetic web around Fin to shield him from further damage. "Don't move," she instructed the male as she jumped from the roof and landed smoothly on the ground in front of him. "I might _accidentally_ electrocute you."  
As Rock-fist took an unorthodox, thundering step toward her, she cocked an eyebrow. "You've _got_ to be kidding me, Hothead. You couldn't even take care of Rocky Balboa here?"  
An electromagnetic net surrounded the stone metahuman and closed around him as Veronique clenched her fists, enjoying the telekinesis-like control she had over her powers. A few unidentifiable mutants swaggered (limped?) toward them, and in response she swung around, the trapped metahuman swinging about with her and proceeding to knock them over, out of their paths, most likely unconscious or rendered incapable of moving when the electricity paralyzed them.

"_Move!_" Finny shouted suddenly, but instead of heeding his command Veronique turned to look at him over her shoulder, both eyebrows raised in question. Milliseconds later, she was struck in the side by a piece of razor-sharp metal that had been sent flying by a telekinetic prompt from an unseen attacker.  
The electric field surrounding Fin weakened and vanished, and he immediately struck out into action.  
"Couldn't even last _two minutes_ without my help?" he shot to Veronique, delivering a hard punch to someone's collarbone and blasting flames to fend off another onslaught. Handfuls of fire whooshed past Veronique as she staggered backward and fell, her vision blurring. The 'battle,' as it were, was over in a matter of minutes, the metahumans retreating into some hidden place where they could seethe undisturbed by any of the powers that be of the city.

His fists still smoking, Fin turned to Veronique and lifted an eyebrow. "Stupid. Can't you take care of yourself?"  
She groaned in response, reaching over to her side and yanking out the metal with a cry of pain. Her slick hands shook as she tossed the metal aside, her eyes fixed on the wound oozing blood. Fin knelt beside her and gave no warning before plunging two searing fingers into the wound. A scream ripped from Veronique's throat and she struggled to get away, but he held her in place with his other hand for a few moments, then finally stood and stepped away from her.

Tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks from the pain, but a glance at the burned, raw flesh told her it wasn't bleeding anymore; she had him to thank for the fact that now she wouldn't die of blood loss. It took her a decent amount of time and several calming gulps of air before she could speak steadily again, but when she did her voice was weak. "Thanks."  
"Don't get too full of yourself, Sparkles. I hate you, and that's not gonna change. I just don't want you **dead** with me to blame."

She swallowed another shuddering breath and used the side of the building for support as she stood as well, her eyes wandering until they landed on Fin's stubbornly set jaw. He glared at her.  
"The hell didn't you listen when I told you to fuckin' _move_?" he grouched in disgust, shaking his head.  
She didn't answer, which was just as well. If she had spoken it probably would have only worsened his mood.  
Fin closely inspected the area for any activity. Finding none, he returned to Veronique and scowled. "No point in waiting around for somethin' to happen. Nothin's gonna be goin' on for a while."  
Veronique glanced up at him from the sleeve she'd torn from her apparel to use as a bandage, which she was tying around her waist.  
"How can you be sure?"

He sneered at her, disgusted at the fact that she was still nursing what he would have treated simply as a scratch. "I know how their minds work. They won't show again until they get confident." He said nothing else, just turned on his heel and picked his way skillfully out of the messy area, not seeming to care whether she followed or not.  
She tailed him as closely as possible, holding one hand pressed to her side and daintily sidestepping the rubble. She couldn't get used to the idea that it was way too quiet for a place which had just been infected by the dangerous meta-gene concoction. It occurred to her that right now she should be _very_ pissed at Fin; after all, it was _his_ fault: had he not knocked her out so he could escape and do something **stupid** to grab attention, she wouldn't have gotten hurt.  
She jogged a few steps to catch up with Fin, then darted in front of him to stop him in his path. Jabbing a finger at his chest, she glared vehemently. "You are an _idiot_," she spat with an air of both conductivity and finality. "Everything that's happened today and will most likely happen afterward is _your_ fault."  
"Excuse me?" Fin's eyes narrowed. In a scarce matter of seconds, Veronique found her feet being taken off the ground, lifted by a strong fist which had attached itself to her neck. Fin's eyes burned and his hands along with them.  
"**_Don't_**," he warned, his voice chilled and steely. "Condescend me." He tightened his grip on her throat a few moments more before abruptly dropping her and continuing on.  
She landed rather roughly on the ground, choking and gasping for breath. Her hands instinctively went to her burning throat, making her wince as they felt the already forming bruises.

A bolt of electricity slammed into his back, knocking him forward and landing him on his knees. He growled in rage and leaped to his feet, whirling about to glare at Veronique, who was picking herself back up and staring evenly at him with similar hatred.  
"Two can play this," he snarled, a stream of fire bolting from his fists and heading straight at her.  
A sparking purple orb formed around her, deflecting the flames and diminishing only after Veronique had summoned the pole used earlier back into her hands. She was airborne now, still struggling to breathe properly but too angry to care.  
"You're so **stupid**!" she shrieked, hanging onto the pole with one hand and firing a squadron of bolts of electricity with the other at the pyro, who had ignited by now and was quickly closing the distance between them. As difficult as it was for her to aim, he dodged her attacks with ease.  
"I know you are, but what am I?"

She gripped the pole with both hands again, swinging it around to smash it into Fin's side. He gritted his teeth against the pain of ribs cracking. He spun in midair and struck the center of Veronique's chest with the heel of his shoe, sending her flying back a few meters until she regained her composure and darted back, this time aiming to hit his skull with her metallic weapon.  
He took this as a chance to take the matter quite literally into his own hands, as he grabbed one end of the pole and held on, channeling heat into it. A surge of electric energy pulsed through his body, forcing him to let go, but he refused to give up just yet. "You fight like a _pussy_, Sparkles!"

"Break it up!" Two of what looked like metal tennis balls shot out at them, bursting as soon as they came in contact with the quarreling targets, both screaming in protest as tentacle-like arms wrapped around them and sent them both plummeting to the fast-approaching ground.  
"Like it? They're called Zap-Traps. My grandfather designed them way back when in his early teenage days, when he was partners with Static. I just improved them to make them resilient to electromagnetic manipulation. Now they only answer to voice recognition prompts."

They were...floating?  
Veronique glanced up to see David, decked out in all sorts of knickknack inventions she never pictured anyone being brave enough to wear in public, looking down at the two of them with arms crossed and one eyebrow raised skeptically. The two other teens hadn't hit the ground because mechanical arms had snaked out from an unseen device on his back, gripping them by the collar of Fin's shirt and the intact sleeve of Veronique's outfit, thus resulting in her hanging at a lopsided angle instead of upright, as Fin was.  
"David!" she screeched. "Put me _down_!"  
"My sensors instruct otherwise," he informed her. "Besides; if I put you down, there'd be no gravity-defying control preventing you and F-for-Fool from playing rough." Even in mid-monologue, however, David thumbed a command into a panel on his sleeve, instructing the extra arms attached to his back to release them.  
Still contained with no option of movement, Fin and Veronique dropped. The former landed awkwardly on his feet, but Veronique hit the ground with painful force on one side, groaning in pain as the breath was knocked out of her. "So help me, David," she spat once she could breathe again. "I am going to _kill_ you if you do that again."  
"Sounds like a plan," Fin agreed only half-consciously, having extreme complications in managing not to fall over. He lost his balance entirely when David landed smoothly a few feet nearby and 'accidentally' nudged him.  
"Oops," the blond muttered, not sparing any remorse. "How clumsy of me."  
"What is _with_ you, David?" Veronique demanded shrilly. "You're like a completely different person!"

He grinned, kneeling beside her and helping her into a sitting position. "I **am**, V. It's like my mind has exploded with capabilities it never had before, and there's all this knowledge at my fingertips, technology not even the military has access to that _I_ can design!" He gestured to his shoes: thick, padded green boots exchanged for the ones he'd had earlier. "These are hovershoes. With them, I can _fly_—I haven't tested their full capacity for velocity, but one of them alone could carry the weight of all three of us. I _invented_ them in **ten** minutes with stuff in a recycle yard. Built them with my own hands." His eyes glittered, and he pointed to them next. "I modified my contacts with a few spare nanites from similar prototypes like that window back at the containment center. Right now, I'm scanning your vitals, and aside from excessive levels of adrenaline and misdirected endorphins, you're just fine." He stood and turned so Veronique could see the device attached to his back. Once he was certain it had had the desired affect upon his audience, he spoke to her over his shoulder. "I scanned in the blueprints for the old 'Backpack' Gear designed, and modified it with a small amount of nanotechnology artificial intelligence. It can do everything the old Backpack could, and more. It's equipped with defense and attack strategies and weapons, and a GPS for each of us or any other metahuman in the _world_. I don't even have to speak most of the time; I just program it with my mind or with a single touch to the panel here—" he held up his wrist—"More nanotech built into my _arm_! It can't be removed, and if my arm were to be amputated it would sever the connection to my brain and heart, shutting it down immediately. Same goes for my contacts. In the case that my arm gets dislocated from the rest of my body, Backpack comes to find me, signaling you via miniature ear-insert communicators that I'm inventing right now."

She hadn't realized it before, but now a glance at David's free hand revealed that his fingers were flying over an almost invisible object she couldn't see because the image was blurred; he was moving _that_ fast. Her mind was spinning so violently she thought she might black out.  
"_David_," she moaned insistently. "What _are_ you?"  
"Central Processing Unit," he replied with a grin. "CPU. That's what I'm gonna be called from now on."  
"Oh my fucking **god**," Fin muttered impatiently from his forgotten spot a few meters off. "Does Brainiac have an OFF switch?"  
David stared calmly at him for a brief moment before tapping one of the many buttons on his wrist. The arm coiled around Fin's neck stretched further up to his mouth, preventing him from speaking any more. "There. I think I quite like you with that new look, Stone."  
He tapped another button, and Veronique's binds relaxed, coiling back into the round device, which rolled of its own accord back to David. He gingerly retrieved the object and pocketed it, then helped Veronique to her feet.

"Shenice was called off to an emergency meeting," he explained before she could ask. "She gave me the card key to her house and said we could all stay there until she returned and explained the situation to us, but now that Hothead has been silenced I'm seriously considering leaving him here."

She jerked her shoulder away from his hand and stomped over to Fin, proceeding to grasp one of the strange limbs encircling him and dragging the bound teen with her back over to David. "No doubt the authorities have been informed of who's responsible for the metahuman breakout. I'd be much happier witnessing whatever _they_ have in mind to do with him, rather than leaving him behind and knowing that sooner or later one of his idiot friends will come and help him out."  
Fin heavily grunted something in response, to which Veronique promptly kicked his gut.

"Suit yourself," David shrugged in compliance. "You might not like the outcome later, though."  
"Why?" she challenged, a smirk curling her lips.  
"Knowing Shenice, she'd rather vouch that Fin stay with us under house arrest or something rather than have him euthanized by the government."  
She snorted. "I could honestly care less."  
"I know," he countered nonchalantly. "That's why, if _that_ should be the case, _I_'m going to vouch for **you** to be his dutiful watcher. After all, you seem to like him _so_ much."  
"Wow, David. You're so hilarious, please, by all means, stop."

"Yeah, Bruises. Stop. And next time you use me as a guinea pig for something, make sure it _works_ before you do."  
Veronique uttered a small squeak of surprise and dismay, her gaze flitting to the length of Zap-Trap containment in her hand, which had been severed in two places. Each end of the portion she held was steadily melting, shrinking its way to the center. She hastily dropped it and grumbled a stream of curses to herself, crossing her arms. _There's no way I'm even going to **bother** with him now. CP**U** can take care of it_, she thought grimly, watching with a mask of blank nonplus as Fin dove from the air and attacked David. Craftily thrown punches prevented the super-genius from reaching into his pocket for another Zap-Trap, and he made sure that he couldn't reach over and program anything into his wrist-panel to put him at the receiving end of misfortune again.  
The battery continued relentlessly until the sickening sound of a limb being ripped from its socket and David's scream signaled its end.

"Quit whinin', Bruises. It'll pop right back in easy enough."  
David forced himself to steady his breathing, then smirked up at Fin with a look of utter triumph. "So _stupid_," he muttered. Fin lifted an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. The look on his face explained plainly enough that he believed he'd _won_ the fight he called himself; David was down, burned, bleeding, and had a dislocated right arm.  
"Think again."  
Fin looked at him quizzically, but only for a second before crying out in pain and falling forward, motionless. Behind him was Backpack, a mechanical arm retracting back into the bulk of the device, its end a still sparking high-voltage stun apparatus.

David hissed from the pain of popping the joint back into place. He denigrated the pyro in a series of grumbles directed at Veronique. "Was he even _listening_ when I told him what would happen if that arm ended up dislocated? Is he really that **dense** and completely void of conscious _thought_ that he didn't realize what he was _doing_? Ugh. The entire world has gone **mad**."

"Mm," Veronique murmured, examining her fingernails. "Can we go now?"  
"It's 'May we leave now,' and yes, we may—but you're carrying him."  
"Why should _I_ have to carry him? **You're** the one with all the fancy velocity-dexterity-weight-tolerant new gear—you carry him."  
David wagged a finger in front of her face. "No, you want him to come along with us instead of leaving him here. He's your problem, so _you_ deal with him. Besides; I'm trying to recover from a traumatic attack."  
She scoffed, looking at him with total disgust. "Oh, _please_. Tell me you're not **really** **_that_** pathetic." Upon further scrutiny to David's condition, she added, "And you looked way worse a second ago...don't tell me you found a self-healing serum, too?"  
David looked up from where he was checking Fin's vitals.  
"Yes."  
"Great. Fork it over, pal. I'm illin' too."  
He gave her a doubtful look. "Why should I? Last I checked you didn't seem so thrilled to discover that I could perform miracles with this new and improved intelligence."  
"Give me the benefit of the doubt," she begged, pouting a little. "I got roughed up just as much as you did."  
"—Which brings me to my next question: _why_ did you just _stand_ there watching when he attacked _me_?"  
She shrugged. "I thought you could handle it. You can't blame me for being wrong." She was treading on dangerous ground and she knew it, but she figured David to be harmless, intellect or no; she'd known him all her life and vice versa, surely they could handle a little teasing on each side.

His dangerous look broke into a wide grin. "I'm just messing with you, V. I just finished with Hothead's ribs; now it's your turn. Open and say 'ah'."  
She did as instructed, and he produced a small tube of some odd glowing substance from his pocket, tapping it once to shake some of its powdery contents into Veronique's mouth.  
"Swallow. It should start working in a few seconds." He grunted from the effort of lifting Fin onto his shoulder, kicking his boots together and lifting into the air a few feet. "Come on. I don't want Shenice to get there before we do."


End file.
